“O, no; when Fred brings her out—­maybe he has done so now—­tell her the direction I have gone and she will understand.  Which is the best course for me to take?  I guess it don’t make any difference, so I will go this way.”

Through all this apparently aimless chatter, Miss Jennie Whitney was using her wits.  She knew a long ride was before her, and everything would be ruined if she lost her way.  There was no moon or stars to give guidance, and she therefore carefully took her bearings while the chance was hers.

“I suppose it’s all the same which course you follow, but I fear I am doing wrong in allowing you to ride off—­”

“Now, don’t spoil everything by regretting the handsome way in which you have indulged my whim; I think I will ride over the ridge to the left—­”

“Hold on, Jennie, until I can speak to Inman; he may object—­”

“You can speak to him after I am gone; good-night, Larch, and many thanks again for your kindness.”

She rode off with her intelligent Jack on a walk until she was clear of the camp, when she touched him into an easy gallop.

Larch Cadmus stood looking into the gloom where she had vanished, almost before he comprehended her intention.

“Well, she’s a puzzle!” he exclaimed to his two companions, who came forward; “I don’t know what to make of her.  What do you suppose she meant by that, boys?”

“It’s easy enough to see,” replied one of them, with a laugh; “she’s gone off after help.”

“Do you think so?” asked the startled Cadmus; “where can she get it?”

“She may bring back their hands.”

“There are only two of them,” said Larch, much relieved, “and they won’t amount to anything in the rumpus.  You don’t imagine that she knows of any larger force anywhere in the neighbourhood?”

“She can’t know of any, for there ain’t any,” was the clincher of the rustler; “or, if there is, she can’t get it here in time to do Asbury and the rest any good.”

Cadmus was relieved by the words of his friend.  Enough misgivings, however, remained to make him say: 

“There are so many moving about that her departure don’t seem to be noticed; I’ll take it as a favour if you don’t mention it to any one, for now that she is gone I am sure I never should have allowed it.”

The couple gave the promise, though their belief was that nothing serious would follow.

Leaving the two to keep watch at the stables, Cadmus sauntered to where Inman was seated near the camp-fire, smoking a pipe.  A little inquiry disclosed that neither the leader nor any of his companions had noticed the departure of the young lady.

It was some time after this that Duke Vesey brought the report of Mrs. Whitney’s illness as an explanation of her son’s delay in returning to the camp of the rustlers.

Exasperated, and suspecting a pretense, Inman consented to a brief postponement of the attack.